Leashed
by Penguin-sama
Summary: Yomi’s voice was warmly calm, controlled, almost soothing. Peace in the voice of a once trusted friend should never be so terrifying. Yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

A late birthday gift for BlueUtopiah. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Yaoi. Mature theme (more suggested mature theme than anything else at this point.) I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho or anything to do with it.

Don't behead me if you don't agree with my characterizations. Rating just in case. I haven't decided if this is just a one-shot, or if it will have more chapters. Depends on the response, I guess.

* * *

A polite smile for the soldiers who had escorted him to his rooms as they all pretended that the men were, indeed, escorts, and not guards. A murmured goodnight, a step away from the doors so that they could be closed.

A mind free of illusion.

There was no sound of the "escorts'" footsteps retreating down the hall, though in the heavy, armored boots they wore, there surely should have been. He was more than certain that they would stand outside those doors all night – not to keep anyone unwanted from entering, but to keep him from leaving.

A slow, meaningless smile spread across his lips as he gazed at the heavy wooden doors, listened to the locks turn outside. He didn't feel like smiling, certainly didn't want to, but there was little he could do, unwilling as he was to break this casual illusion of guest-right.

Better by far to laugh at himself than to allow the men outside to hear him scream in frustration. And pulling on his hair would only damage it.

He moved, feet making not a whisper of sound against the thick carpets as he crossed the room. It was only force of habit that caused him to sink gracefully onto the overstuffed cushions near the windows. He had no doubt that he was being watched, but at the moment, that knowledge did not concern him as much as other pressing factors.

Reaching to loosen the collar of his shirt, he forced his body to take on a more relaxed posture and reclined back, stretching his long, slim form over the cushions in a blatant display for his watcher.

The room he had been given, he observed through half-lidded eyes, would have been well-suited for a visiting king – or at least a prince. The furnishings and decorations were more than lavish – they were nearly unforgivably decadent.

Kurama bore his teeth in a silent snarl, and hoped that his watcher would assume the expression was another smile.

The room as a whole was actually larger than the entire ground floor of his home in the human realm. Large, barely-opaque curtains were all that served to separate the different areas of the space. Later, when the urge to rend everything subsided a little, he would take the time to explore his new surroundings in more detail. For the moment, however, he was content to assume that the rest of the apartment was decorated as lavishly as the area he now occupied.

Even without seeing the rest of it, it was easy to say that his new quarters were perfection.

Paradise.

Prison.

He took a long, slow breath and fought the instincts that screamed at him of his entrapment. His hands, never very obedient to his will, convulsed, clawing at the cushions he reclined against. He slammed his eyes closed, fighting to regain his control.

This splendor was nothing more than a not-so-subtle reminder of the precarious position he now found himself in.

A reminder, also, of the damning fact that this was, after all, all his fault.

He had allowed his pride to dictate his actions. He had been hurt by what, at the time, had seemed to him a grave betrayal. The one person in any of the three worlds who held his complete confidence and trust had chosen to leave his side. Though he should have been above such petty things, he had been hurt. No one had ever left him willingly.

The hurt had made him careless.

He had lashed out blindly, foolishly, confident in his own ability to keep himself free and safe.

And now he was neither.

He frowned, not enjoying his current train of thought. It was embarrassing to be forced to admit that he was in trouble. He had grown so accustomed to depending on someone else that, now that he was alone again, he made careless mistakes.

All of his plans. His power base. His friends, family.

Everything important to him had been jeopardized by his childish inability to adjust to his sudden solitude.

The truly terrifying thing was, however, that he could no longer remember why he had thrown himself into this vipers' nest.

He shifted slightly to glance at the doors as he heard the locks turn. Habit and stubbornness were all that kept him reclined so leisurely as he watched the doors open.

Yomi stopped, surprised to find himself being watched, and paused a moment before giving a quiet chuckle of amusement. Continuing into the room, he motioned for the guards to close to doors behind him.

"Oh, Kurama! How quickly your heart is beating!" he observed with a gentle, unreadable smile.

Kurama narrowed his eyes, still unbalanced by the change in his once-friend, and the sudden inability to read him.

Yomi cocked his head to the side, almost as if he were observing him.

"I bet you're posed very prettily, aren't you? Very calm and docile, maybe even happy and at ease. But inside…you're panicking, aren't you? A pity I can't play audience to your show – no doubt it's most impressive. You always were skilled at deception."

Kurama fell out of his careful lounge, and did not fight the urge to glare at his former friend, no matter how futile the expression was.

The other demon merely laughed.

"What's wrong, Kurama?" he asked amicably. "You don't like the room?"

"It's fine." Kurama answered tersely.

"I thought I had captured your tastes quite accurately, actually. If you don't like it, though, I'm certain that something else can be arranged." Yomi's voice was warmly calm, controlled, almost soothing. Peace in the voice of a once-trusted friend should never be so terrifying. "I would hate for you to think me a bad host!"

"I assure you, Yomi, that aside from the threats on my family, your behavior has been most commendable."

The horned demon laughed again, the familiar sound bringing with it the memory of long, dark nights filled with warm conversation and the heady smell of a campfire.

Kurama shook his head, dispersing the memories. When in hell had Yomi become so skilled at using his voice this way?

"Ah, Kurama – this is what I've missed most about you! Your words – so ruthlessly cutting, so dry and dangerous!"

"I'm happy I could provide amusement for you."

He frowned a little at the ice in Kurama's voice.

"I would like to think that it's not too late for us to regain what we had," the king said quietly, expression losing all traces of amusement. His tone was completely calm, but for a moment, his words seemed to paint the room in sorrow.

Kurama shook his head again.

"If I can forgive," Yomi continued, "Then surely you can. I told you that I understood…"

"Yet you felt the need to threaten me, nonetheless."

"What's a little ruthlessness between friends?"

It was asked quietly, but there was something in his voice, some change in his expression, that made fear race down Kurama's spine.

"Do not be offended if I seem wary," he said carefully, rising slowly to his feet. "I have never given my trust easily, and it has been a long time indeed since you and I were anything like friends."

"And, of course, the last time I did have your trust, I foolishly squandered it. Eh, Kurama?"

"Surely my actions alone cannot bear sole responsibility for this change in you. I find it hard to believe I myself was the catalyst for such a transformation."

"Oh?"

"Where is the laughter in you? The spirit? I can barely read the man you have become because I cannot find a single trace of the man you were within him."

A quiet chuckle.

"You accuse me of changing when you're the one who has returned reeking of human! You always did have a strange sense of humor."

"Yomi…"

The horned demon crossed the room with eerie grace, and lowered himself into the seat which Kurama had previously occupied, parodying the position the redhead had held when he had entered the room almost exactly.

"I have a confession to make," he said with a small smile. "I have to admit that I'm enjoying this newfound power to frighten you. It's always been…exhilarating…to see you lose control. It gives me a thrill such as I haven't felt in…far too long. Ask what you want to ask, my friend. I will need your expertise far too much in the coming weeks to risk harming you – and we have already reached an agreement in regards to those adorable humans of yours."

"Why are you here?"

Yomi's head turned, and for a moment it was as if he was actually looking at Kurama.The king's lips twitched in amusement.

"Right to the point, eh, Kurama?"

"I would appreciate an answer."

Yomi slid his hand over the cushions he sat upon.

"Why don't you come and sit with me?"

"I will not make the mistake of dropping my guard around you ever again, Yomi."

The dark haired demon laughed, and this time the noise had more freedom to it – as if the other laughs had all been planned. For a moment he seemed to be as startled by it as Kurama had been.

"Impressive!" Yomi said at last. "Frightened as you are, you can still wield that sharp tongue of yours. Sit, Kurama."

"Must I?"

"I would prefer it."

Still the redhead remained where he was, rooted to the spot. After several silent, tense moments, Yomi sighed.

"Need I remind you that you are not the master anymore, fox?"

For a moment, Kurama's breath caught. He had to bite his tongue to keep from asking the other demon not to call him that. It would have been foolish beyond words to allow the man yet another hold to use against him.

Reluctantly, Kurama sat down directly where he was, cross-legged on the floor.

Yomi's lips twitched, but he didn't comment.

"Well?" Kurama prodded crossly, after several moments passed in silence.

"I didn't come to enjoy the pleasure of your company?"

"I severely doubt it."

"Fine. It's inelegant to put it this way, but you force me to get right to the point. My friend, I've come to make the bargain for your freedom."

"Excuse me?"

The small smile that had been playing at Yomi's lips all night grew.

"Spirit World agreed to allow you to return to the human world; however, no one asked my opinion on this condition. We have dealt with your betrayal, true. However, a vengeful spirit is never satisfied."

"Yomi?"

"You have bargained for your beloved family; rest assured that I will not threaten you again."

"Yomi, what…?"

"I am not yet convinced that I _should_ allow you to return to the human world. I think it unwise to be without my advisor for so long."

"We have bargained this as well, Yomi. The warriors I intend to being you - !"

"Indeed. I want them – and you will bring them to me. I suppose I should have been more clear. I plan to allow you to return to the human world – but why should I allow you to _stay_ there?"

"Yomi, my family would become suspicious if I were to be gone for too long."

"Are you a child, Kurama? Maybe it's time you give them up."

"I cannot."

"Foolish."

"Perhaps."

"If you want the right to stay in the human world for any extended period of time, without babysitters sent to watch you and ensure your return, you must offer me suitable compensation for the temporary loss of my advisor."

Kurama took a deep breath and fought the urge to scream. Another miscalculation; he could no longer think of this king before him as his brash and foolish friend of old.

"What is it you want from me, Yomi?"

"What have I always wanted from you, Kurama?"

"Yomi…"

"Not everything changes, you see."

"You know my policy."

"Yes, of course I do." Yomi gave a small laugh – a bitter sound. "You derive your power from the energy of life, but you would never allow even the most trusted of your followers the honor of helping you maintain that power."

A thin hint of anger had worked its way into his voice. Kurama discreetly clenched his hands into fists until the nails bit into his skin, distracting him from his fear.

"Instead you gave that honor to ignorant strangers who would never understand the gift they had been given, leaving those who adored you to live in the agony of thirsting for your touch." Yomi continued. "Cruel, so cruel, that those closest to you were kept the furthest away. We alone knew how much we were missing."

"It was never my intention to cause any of my men pain, Yomi."

"Don't lie to me now. Don't tell me that you didn't enjoy our longing for you."

"Sleeping with one's subordinates can only lead to trouble."

"_I_ could have been trusted with it."

"Could you?" Kurama demanded, beginning to become angry as well. "Constantly you defied me – every time you went against my orders, you undermined my authority with the men. How much worse would it have been if you had been my lover?"

"If I had been your lover, I would never have disobeyed you, Kurama."

"Now you are the one being childish!"

"You don't believe me?"

"You were always convinced that you knew better than I. Giving you the power of a consort would have surely led to my end."

He watched fury overcome Yomi's expression, saw the shadow of the man he had known lurking within the frightening king.

Then Yomi composed himself.

"Your body is the bargaining chip, Kurama," he stated, rising. "If you want to spend any length of time in the human realm, you will give it to me. Refuse, and your life as a human is over."

"Yomi…"

He paused on his way to the door, and for a moment, he seemed almost sad.

"You will tell me your decision when I return," he ordered.

And then he was gone.

* * *

Happy belated birthday, Blue. 


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who responded to the first chapter and encouraged me to continue. I hope you continue to enjoy this little fantasy of mine.

Warnings: Yaoi. I own nothing. I have a creative liscence and I _use_ it.

* * *

In Yomi's kingdom, the sun rose at three a.m. Demon time, not human.

Kurama knew this, because he was awake to see it happen.

Even if he had not been fully convinced that his "friend" had someone watching him, he would not have allowed himself the temper tantrum he so desperately yearned for. Yomi would find far too much satisfaction in an unbalanced Kurama – and even if the fox's former second never found out about it, Kurama still saw acting out as some form of surrender.

Watched and stubborn, Kurama's options were limited. Screaming was out, as was pacing. He had no doubt that any attempt to leave the room would be met with resistance.

He certainly couldn't _sleep_.

Without an outlet for his rage, fear, frustration, and anxiety, _any_ form of rest was impossible. Kurama was trapped with nothing but his own mind, his recent mistakes chasing each other like dogs in endless circles.

A "leisurely" exploration of his apartments led him to discover a balcony. Dragging one of his apartment's heavy, gilded chairs outside at least provided him with a momentary distraction.

As he sat, he mused – he could very easily escape over the balcony. Flee to Hiei or Yusuke, send word to Spirit World to send someone to watch over his family while he was away. Either of the other kings would be more than willing to grant him safe passage in return for the information he could provide them.

But "safe passage" was not the same as respect, and neither king would likely accept a cowardly turncoat, no matter what he knew of their enemy's plans. And the next time Kurama and Yomi met – as they were sure to do, given his current luck – there would be no more of this polite playacting. They would be enemies, pure and simple.

Additionally, as there were no _overt_ threats on his life, fleeing would only cause him to forever lose face within the demonic community. And while it was true that, after this mess was all over, he doubted that he would ever again return to the demon plane, Kurama had long ago sworn never to deal in certainties. He could not afford to appear any weaker to his youkai brethren than he already did.

Being outside did little to calm him. Gandara was a city, set much in the fashion of human cities – and in the fashion of human cities, there was little plant life to be found. What flora he _could_ sense within the city limits were too weak to provide him with any peace of mind.

There wasn't a single park within the entire metropolis, and Kurama knew that Yomi had planned his city that way on purpose, hundreds of years ago, on the off-chance that he and Kurama would one day cross paths again.

Furthermore…

Kurama closed his eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath of night air.

This city, the capital of Yomi's kingdom, was the exact place where the Youko and his band had clawed out their territory, a thousand years before. There was not a single acre of that old territory not covered by city, and not a section of city that extended past the boundaries of the territory.

Kurama had cultivated their territory. It had been one of the few things he actually cared about back in that Youko lifestyle. He had known every inch of the land, held influence over every single plant.

And Yomi had built his city atop it.

Was it a sign of his hatred, that he had done this, or had he meant it to be a sentimental gesture?

With this new Yomi, it was impossible to tell.

The city was completely silent, stretched out below him. A city _should_ be quiet at this hour, but silent? Kurama wondered if Yomi had some kind of curfew in effect.

He wondered if he would be surprised if he did.

Kurama opened his eyes, feeling no calmer than he had before, though he knew that it was helping him to think on Yomi's new personality. What seemed like meaningless, panicked meandering now would allow him to calmly face Yomi tomorrow.

No, today.

Kurama sighed quietly to himself, wondering how it would be best to appear when Yomi returned to him. Should he go to bed and pretend to have slept, or be waiting, perfect and calm, by the door? Would it hurt him to be found as he was, outside?

The sun was rising.

Kurama rose and went back into his apartments. He had forced himself to unpack his backpack shortly after Yomi had had come to him with his final threat, and for a moment, the young man found himself regretting that he hadn't brought more clothes. Foolishly, he hadn't considered the need to make a _visual_ impression on his former friend. He should have realized that the way he appeared would matter to _him_, at least, even if Yomi was incapable of noticing. His entire mood could be influenced simply by the reflection he received in the mirror.

At the thought, Kurama glanced at the gilded mirror that hung on one of his apartment's few real walls. His human form looked more frail and delicate then ever, trapped and tired and frightened. Innocent, as well.

Compared to what he had been, he supposed that his human form _was_ innocent.

Through the mirror, Kurama watched his eyes grow harder.

* * *

Yomi did not return to Kurama's apartments.

Instead, he sent a messenger to "invite" him to dinner.

Kurama had been waiting all day. Yomi had, no doubt, waited so long to call him in order to make him uneasy. He was having him meet him in an unfamiliar room for the same reason.

He would be disappointed when he learned that his plan had backfired. The extra time alone had done nothing more than _help_ Kurama. The fox had been patient in his Youko form – his long stretch as a human had only helped him to increase that trait.

By the time they at last came to call for Kurama, his mind was cold. He had at last formulated his plan, pushed away his every emotion. Yomi would not surprise him again, would not gain the upper hand. There was no escaping the mistakes already made, but at the very least he could prevent new ones.

His guards were clearly surprised by the sight he presented them with when they came into his room, and he rewarded them with a smile, politely requesting that they lead the way to his "dear friend."

They left him outside a pair of large, heavy doors, liberally carved with fantastic images out of Youkai legend. It was both strange and sad that Yomi had filled his palace with so many splendorous visual images when he could not enjoy them.

He should have died that day.

Kurama reached out, fingertips lightly brushing the carvings as he wondered if any satisfaction at all could be had from the feel of them, rather than the sight. He closed his eyes, fingertips caressing the sinuous form of Nalinoula – a Nagi of Youkai legend who had led a nearly-successful rebellion against the Spirit World.

The artist had been skilled. Kurama's fingertips could pick out each of her tiny, sharp teeth, her lips drawn back in a snarl. Her eyes had been carved slightly raised so that he could feel her "mad-eye" glare. The arm raised with the war hammer was taunt and muscled, and each of the scales of her tail had been carved in excruciatingly minute detail.

Kurama opened his eyes once more, hearing a shifting from within the room. A slow smile spread across his face.

Had he reacted the way Yomi was certainly expecting, he would probably be standing in the hall just as he was now, except frightened. Terrified. Trying to hide it. Ashamed.

The guards had left him alone, but he wouldn't have been able to run even if he had been of the mindset to consider it. There would have been no honorable way to explain himself.

He could feel Yomi on the other side of the door. Feel his pleasure, his triumph.

Kurama stilled himself, taking full control of his breathing, his heartbeat. He didn't want Yomi to be able to read him at all.

When he was ready, he pushed open the doors.

The room was large, rounded. The far, curved wall was made up of windows, their sheer, black curtains left open to reveal the night sky, dotted with the strange stars of Makai. There was a long table, with seating enough for twenty. At the far end, two places were set for dinner.

On the wall opposite the table, there was a large fireplace and a sitting area.

A thick rug of white fur, a raging fire. Two high-backed, well-cushioned chairs. An end table held a crystal decanter of liquid.

And comfortable in one of the chairs sat the king himself.

"I was expecting something more subtle from you." Kurama stated by way of greeting.

Yomi tilted his head to the side, puzzlement momentarily flashing through his expression. He pushed it away quickly enough though, and smiled at Kurama.

"I thought it would have only been insulting to go on pretending that this is anything other than what it is," he replied smoothly. "Please, come in. And close the doors behind you."

"It would be my pleasure."

Yomi's laugh filled the room as Kurama turned to do as told.

The fox had to fight to keep from smirking.

"So," Yomi's voice called. Confident, mocking. "Have you reached your decision?"

"You haven't left me much of one, now have you?"

Yomi gestured to the table.

"Shall we share a meal first?"

"No." Kurama murmured, crossing the room. "I think we should get this over with as quickly as possible."

"I'm pleased to see you've accepted your fate."

"Resigned, I believe, is the correct word."

"Still rebellious?"

"Always."

A laugh. Some tension had eased from Yomi's expression as he became confident in his victory. It was a small comfort to the bit of Kurama left deep inside who still wanted to cry and scream to see proof that the man did _not_ know him as well as they'd both assumed. Yomi had held at least a small sliver of doubt that Kurama would not comply to his wishes.

He would learn soon enough the futility of wishing.

Kurama moved across the room. Glided. His footsteps made only the slightest whisper of sound against the darkly stained wooden floor. It wasn't nearly as long a distance as it had appeared as he moved to his friend's chair, gracefully lowered himself to his knees at his feet.

At last allowing himself a smile, Kurama leaned up and twined his arms around Yomi's neck, letting his fingers run through those long, glossy strands of black hair. He gave a quiet chuckle as he heard the other man's breath hitch.

"Now," he murmured, pulling the horned demon down so closely that their breath mingled. "That wouldn't be nervousness, would it, friend?"

A quiet chuckle.

Kurama's smile grew.

Yomi came eagerly to him as he pulled him down closely, their lips meeting. It was tentative at first, almost laughably shy. As much as Yomi had changed, as much as he'd tried to emulate the thinking and speaking patterns of his old friend, no one had ever taught him the trick to kissing. Or perhaps he was even more nervous than even Kurama could read.

His tongue sought entrance almost immediately and, with a private laugh, Kurama granted it.

The king tasted of lightening and rain, of sugarcane and spice, and deep, deep below it all, the warm, metallic taste of human blood. His hands had come to rest against Kurama's waist, but now they moved, tight against the gauze of his clothing and the slim sides of his body. Up over his muscular arms, to the back of his head where his fingers entangled themselves in the slick, silky mass of silver hair.

Yomi paused.

Drawing the king's lower lip in between his teeth, Kurama pulled back slowly. Though he would be met with no gaze, the fox rolled his eyes upwards.

"Problem?"

"There's something…there's something different about you."

"Oh?"

Kurama pushed Yomi back playfully against the seat and, sliding his body against the other demon's leg, settled himself into his lap. Again his arms went around his neck, again he drew him into a kiss.

Yomi's hesitation this time was from more than nerves. The blind man's hands moved searching. Sliding up a tightly-muscled calve, skimming over broad shoulders. Kurama laughed into his lips, pulling away and tilting his head back as the king's fingers slid through the thick fur of his tail.

"You changed forms."

"Wasn't this what you wanted?" Kurama taunted with false innocence. "The Youko, here for you to take as you will. Tamed. Chained. _Ready_."

"Yes, but…"

"You can have me, Yomi. I agree to your proposal." he allowed the very first traces of his anger to seep in, his voice growing hard. "However," he added, "There is no part of me that is human that you will touch."

Yomi was very still. One hand was on Kurama's thigh, the other on his hip, but there was no passion to him now, no excitement. A smile curling his lips, Kurama leaned in and rested his forehead against his once-friend's.

"You didn't care about the human side of me until I took it away from you, did you?" he asked, a smooth whisper.

"Kurama…"

"And that, _dear_ friend, is precisely why you will never have it."

Another moment of stillness and then, almost too quickly to catch, Yomi was moving. He dumped Kurama to the ground, struck him, cursed him, railed against him.

And Youko _laughed_.

* * *

To be continued

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**guiltyamethyst** - thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Many thanks to everyone who took the time to review.

Warnings for chapter three: Don't own. Use of creative license. Yaoi. And this chapter is rated **NC17**. If you don't know what that means, then you shouldn't be reading it.

* * *

"I didn't mean to bloody you."

Kurama paused momentarily before returning his attention to the small cup of soil that he'd managed to charm one of his guards into smuggling in to him.

"Is that an apology?" he asked quietly.

"No – it's a fact."

"Aa. Well. Nevertheless, it is still comforting to know that your old self hasn't been destroyed completely yet." He sent a thin surge of power into the soil, down to the tiny seed he had buried within. For a moment there was no response, and he feared that the land truly had been spoiled. "That temper of yours is something I remember quite clearly. I've never _personally_ felt the effects of it before, but…" he trailed off, distracted, as he felt the seed respond.

"Kurama…" Yomi's voice was not the carefully controlled serenity he had earlier manufactured. There was regret there. A plea.

Frowning, Kurama sent another little surge into the seed, felt the life within it stir sleepily.

"What are you doing?" Yomi asked when it became clear that his statement would not be acknowledged.

"Planting. Your palace is oddly empty of plant life. A tragedy which shall be quickly and efficiently mended."

Silence. Arguing, pointing out that it had been purposeful, would only ruin the illusion of friendship.

Kurama sent the seed one last, tiny surge to ensure that it was, indeed, awake. Task completed, he set the cup of earth aside and looked up.

Yomi stood in the archway that served as the entrance to the small courtyard Kurama had found. The other man had pulled himself up from nothing, become a great and powerful king, but now, facing Kurama for the first time since their altercation nearly a week ago, he seemed awkward and unsure.

And Kurama was too tired to get any satisfaction from it.

"You're in your human form again." Yomi observed quietly.

Kurama nodded, suspecting that the blind man would be able to sense the action though the displacement in the air as his head moved.

Leaning back, he let his eyes scan the courtyard.

There was no plant life whatsoever, of course, but it was still good to be outside. Gandara was prone to fierce lightening storms, but today was a clear day. Beautiful.

Yomi moved, crossing to sit beside him on the cold, stone bench. Kurama didn't glance at him.

The architect who had designed the courtyard had done a remarkable job with it. The absence of flora had nearly been made up for by the bright, colorful mosaics that lined the walls, the glitter of the sun off the gray marble floor, the presence of the tall, proud pillars and exquisitely carved statues.

"I'm very beautiful." Kurama told his companion quietly. "Did they tell you that?"

"No. I don't want to know what humanity looks like draped around your glorious form."

Kurama gave a humorless smile.

His switch back to his human form had been painful, and really, had taklen more power than he'd wanted to spend. Shifting forms was the quickest way to heal minor injuries, but it wasn't easy. And it _hurt_. He still hadn't fully recovered.

But Yomi had beaten him quite thoroughly in his anger, and though it had been satisfying to make him lose control, Kurama had been unwilling to let anyone see him bruised and bloody. A quick, messy healing had been _necessary_.

"My hair is red," he informed Yomi meanly. "My eyes are green. Large. Innocent."

"Kurama."

One word, said simply, but it was all the warning the fox needed.

He was dangerously close to breaking the rules.

He was tired from the quick transformation. He supposed that was what was making him so careless. Yomi's earlier proposition had offended him terribly, too, and his anger had still not dimmed. Additionally, the youko mindset he had taken on when he had first changed forms had yet to fully return to dormalcy.

But it was a tightrope Kurama walked. If he stopped being civil, then so would Yomi.

And, like it or not, Yomi still had all the power.

"My apologies, Yomi. I just thought you would be curious."

"I wasn't."

Silence passed between them. The wind picked up a little, stirring their hair, and Kurama stared at his once-friend from an impossible distance.

"I suppose," Kurama said quietly, reluctantly, "That I should also apologize for my deception the other night."

"As I should apologize for becoming so angry." Yomi nodded. "I didn't negotiate for both of your personas. It was _my_ miscalculation."

"I will not apologize."

"Nor will I."

"Good."

* * *

Breath came heavily – a struggle. The fingers that gripped his hips would leave bruises and small cuts – crescent-shaped and bloody – from where nails had bitten harshly into tender flesh.

Those hands, so large and cruel, tried to move, direct, command him. The fool did not yet realize that, whatever the position he took, the Youko was _always_ the dominant partner.

Ignoring the unsubtle attempts to influence his movement, he tossed back his head of long, silvery hair and glared down at his partner – the pretty face flushed with passion, the lips parted with lust and bruised from not-so-tender kisses.

With a quiet growl, he slid his hands over the well-muscled chest, sinking his nails into the flesh near the shoulders and pulling them back down, leaving thin, white tracks all the way to slender hips. He began to move faster, anger spurring passion as he rode his partner with furious fervor. Almost detachedly he watched blood fill the marks he had made across the heaving chest.

The peak came quickly. The hands on his hips tightened, a moan fell from parted lips. He could feel it when the other's release came, spilling up within him.

His tail struck the mattress and he threw his head back, the welcome rush of power that filled him pushing past his careful control. A small, reluctant sound spilled from his mouth at his own release.

His head fell forward, chin resting against his chest as he fought to catch his breath. He managed to remain sitting up, though his body quaked with exhaustion.

Head bowed, he allowed himself a small smile. He enjoyed this feeling – this contrast. His body so weary as his powers coursed through his veins like a raging sea.

Yomi slipped easily from his body as he at last moved, sliding to the side to flop inelegantly atop the fine feather mattress.

He barked out a harsh, tired laugh and threw his arm up over his eyes, enjoying the rush. His pleasure only diminished a little as the body beside him shifted, as a heavy arm slid around his waist. He managed to tolerate it until the other body moved to press against his own.

He tried to shrug Yomi away.

"I'm sweaty," he complained.

"I don't mind, really."

He made an irritated noise, but it took several moments before he had the power to sit up.

Youko yawned and stretched his arms up high above his head, arching his back. Even irritation at his bedmate could not destroy the pleasure of the power coursing through his veins.

A hand began to stroke his tail, taking, in his opinion, far too much liberty. The fingertips of Yomi's other hand began to trace slowly up his spine.

"You were everything we'd always heard you were," the king said quietly, warmly.

Kurama began to gather his hair, twisting it and piling it atop his head to cool the nape of his neck.

"Was I?" he asked.

Yomi's voice had lost much of its carefully constructed control. He sounded much like his old self.

"I was a little afraid – when something is highly anticipated, it's rarely as good as one dreams. But…"

"Are you finished with me tonight?"

A pause. Stillness, as Yomi recognized the ice in Kurama's voice.

"I was going to allow you to stay here." the king answered, frost creeping into his own tones. "With me."

"I decline."

Silence.

The comfortable, friendly air began to seep from the room. Yomi sat up beside him with carefully controlled movements, and when he forced Kurama to face him, his own expression was that of the cool, controlling king.

Kurama leaned in close, and when he spoke, it was with his lips brushing those of his former friend.

"How does it feel," he asked quietly, "To know of all the _power_ you've just given me?"

A calm smile – which meant the beginnings of anger. Yomi's hand reached to run through Kurama's hair with all the passion of a dead slug.

"You would never dare use it against me." he mumbled back.

Disgusted, Kurama rose and moved to the window. He could feel Yomi's simmering hatred like a fire at his back.

"Do you remember the orgies, Yomi?"

A quiet, un-amused laugh.

"You were 'kind' enough to let me watch a few. Yes, I remember."

"Mm. You know, we never did reach a ceiling."

"A…ceiling?"

"A limit to how much power I could take and store. The only _real_ limit was the number of lovers I had the energy and inclination for." Kurama turned on him, regretting that Yomi was missing the sight of his pale, nude body in the moonlight. He had always used his beauty as a weapon, and felt the lack of that advantage sorely. "If I were to save up all the power I gained from every single sexual experience for a year, not using any of it for any reason…how strong do you think I could become?"

"You're too guilty to turn against me. I'll take my chances and keep you by my side – so that _I_ can use your power."

"What can I say to convince you not to take me lightly?"

"I will _never_ take you lightly, Kurama. But until you can face me without the slightest aroma of fear, you will never have the upper hand with me again. No matter what tricks you try." Yomi's voice was steel – a blade drawn in the dark of night to stab the back of a lover.

"I'm _not_ afraid of you. I'm not afraid of anyone I've fucked."

Yomi's lips quirked.

"A whore _and_ a liar, on top of being a traitor. Kurama, you never cease to amaze."

* * *

To Be Continued

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**guiltyamethyst** - (grins)


	4. Chapter 4

POV shift that I'm a little nervous over in this chapter. Be kind to my battered heart.

Warnings: Yaoi. Creative license. POV Shift. Language. Ownership of absolutely nothing. Short chapter.

* * *

That damned fox. 

Steady breathing and firm control were all that prevented him from expressing his annoyance as he felt his companion shift to what had fast been termed his "forbidden" form.

A thousand years was a long time to simmer in hatred. His blindness cut him off from the world, leaving the pretty youkai who had never wanted for companionship with a permanent sense of isolation that no amount of pleasant company would ever manage to break through. Strength was the only solace.

Yomi understood the fox's reasons for turning against him. Hadn't he even admitted that he would have done the same, had their positions been reversed? He knew that he was fortunate that it had only been his sight which he had lost.

His hatred, however, would not be mollified.

He had admired Youko Kurama to the point of worship. He had been proud of his position as the great thief's second, thrilled every time the youko had spoken of the future he planned to carve out and included Yomi in those plans.

"One day, Yomi, we'll be strong enough to challenge even the4 kings themselves."

_We_ had been a beautiful word, back then.

Yomi's hatred, however, had not begun when he had begun to suspect of his "friend's" betrayal. Nor had it began when the fox had failed to rescue him from his attacker.

The hatred had been there almost from the very beginning. From the first time the fox had turned to a stranger for sex, not even taking Yomi into consideration. From the first time the Youko had laughed out loud at his second's suggestion that _he_ be the one to help him "recharge."

All those years of following him, wanting him. Kurama had no idea of the depths of Yomi's emotions – then _or_ now. The fox suspected the hatred, clearly, but had never bothered to see the rest. The devotion. The admiration. The love.

Even now…

He hated that damned fox with every fiber of his being, but that hatred was nothing in comparison with everything else.

But Kurama wouldn't see it.

The threats, the mind games, the double-talk and intrigue – they were all _necessary_. That was the way Kurama's mind worked, the only way to deal with him on _his_ level. Anything else and the challenger would find himself flat on his back, dead.

Youko had to be met on Youko's terms.

He could feel the heat of the fox's glare on his face, and his torturous mind gave him the image of eyes as green as grass after a spring rain.

Damn that fox. He was harder to deal with when the addition of his unfamiliar yet enticing human aspect so clear and present in Yomi's mind. When plotting his revenge, Yomi hadn't considered his own reaction to Kurama's humanity. Humans were fragile, near-to-worthless. Food.

But the delicacy and weakness of the human form somehow made the irresistible Youko even moreso – a fact the damn fox had no doubt known when he had forbidden Yomi his human form. When he had described himself to him, despite the king's wishes.

His traitorous mind provided him even more than the awful, enticing vision of those eyes. He knew the fox was standing before him, glaring, but in his mind, Yomi _saw_ the thin and delicate form of a human boy, draped in the Youko's elegance.

"I think I will return home tomorrow." Kurama announced coldly, his glare so hot on Yomi's face that the king half expected his skin to blister and peel away. Yomi wondered if the sudden switch to the human form had been an accidental result of the fox's anger, or if Kurama had done it deliberately, _because_ of his anger, in order to make this conversation more painful. "I've paid your price. I hope you're satisfied with your 'whore'."

It wasn't supposed to have gone this way. The best thing that could have happened would have been that Kurama would have been so guilty and so fearful of Yomi's power that he would have allowed the king anything.

Yomi had known that option would not happen though, though he had fantasized of it fondly.

He had hoped though – as he had hoped every since the beginning of their relationship, so many long years ago – that once he had managed to claim Kurama's body, he would be able to claim the rest of him. Surely through their bodies he could prove the love and devotion he would never be able to express any other way.

But once more that damned fox had proven himself far too unpredictable.

"Please, don't leave so soon."

"I've already stayed longer than I had planned for."

He could hear the fox moving around the room, gathering his clothes and dressing himself.

"I didn't mean to say those things."

There was a silence. Yomi couldn't hear the fox move, but he could smell the floral perfume of his skin, and he felt the rose-petal softness of his lips as they brushed his lightly, mockingly.

"You meant them," Kurama said against his mouth. "And, for all I know, they are an accurate statement. Whether or not you had the right to such a statement, however, is another matter."

A displacement of air as he moved away. Yomi fumbled to disentangle himself from the sheets.

"Kurama?"

His voice came from the door.

"I've met your price, you did not negotiate for anything more than one night, which you have now received. I do hope you enjoyed it, because you won't be getting another chance."

"Kurama!"

"I will return with the warriors I promised. I do try to keep my word nowadays."

The door opened, the door closed.

Yomi was alone.

* * *

TBC 

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

**Lola** - No, no, I love analysis. It's what I do all day in school. (grins) I have a lot of fun playing with Kurama's character, and it's always really interesting to get responses on what I've done or haven't done. Some things that seem natural for him to me surprise people, while things that I think are a stretch don't get remarked on. That's the beauty of writing I guess. Oh. And: I-like-dashes.(g) Thanks!

**guiltyamethyst **- here's hoping it continues to go toward "liking it"!


	5. Chapter 5

I have class in three minutes. Going to make myself late, but ff wouldn't let me post yesterday, so I have to do it now.

Unhappy with the end of this chapter because it's not a good place to end it. The next chapter might have to be more of a 5.2 than ch. 6...

Very short chapter, but I wanted to give you something, since I missed last week and may not be able to post again until January. I'm having a little trouble plotting out the progression of this fic; where I want it to go and how, whether or not (and how much) I want to deviate from the cannon, etc.

Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

Kurama was only gone for a month before he returned, announcing his intentions to stay for the weekend.

Yomi lost his initial surprise quickly enough. His first thought had been that, perhaps, the fox had been thinking of him while in the human world. Perhaps his brief stint as the youko had reminded him of just what he had lost while insisting on playing at human. Perhaps, given time to think, the fox had realized what Yomi had tried, but been unable to, tell him.

Each of these thoughts had been dismissed almost as soon as they occurred to him that Friday night when Kurama came to him smelling of soil and rain.

Kurama had many enemies within Yomi's ranks, after all. Yomi was no fool. Once he managed to shove away silly fantasy, he became certain that the fox's return had nothing to do with Yomi and everything to do with Kurama's enemies. With reminding them that he had been hand-picked by their king. With keeping his own senses in touch with the inner workings of the palace.

The mental transition from fantasy to reality had taken only seconds. And although _seconds_ could rarely be spared in the presence of one like the former thief, Yomi could not begrudge himself for taking that time when Kurama had come to him so quietly, slipping in through the balcony and soundlessly stealing into his quarters.

They hadn't spoken since Kurama's announcement of his plans, and the silence between them became something fragile and important. As if shattering it would lead to devastating results.

His imagination gave him the image of the fox's humanity that his mind's eye had been reluctantly forced to form. "Beautiful," Kurama had called himself, and the fox's ideals of beauty were stricter than most. "Beautiful" to Kurama would be breathtaking, stunning, earth-shatteringly lovely to anyone else.

To Yomi, it was a painful beauty. Painful because he could not touch it, see it, understand it. Achingly fragile.

The silence shattered as Kurama spoke.

"Would you care for some company?"

Yomi frowned, brow furrowing. Kurama's voice, though calm and controlled, made it clear that he was still angry at him – every bit as angry as he had been when he'd left. Perhaps moreso, now that he'd been given the time to dwell on it.

"What do you want in return?"

The fox made an irritated noise.

"I haven't come to sell myself to you!" as he spoke, his voice changed. He was shifting forms. Yomi fought not to imagine what that that red hair had to look like as it bleached out to silver, strand by silken strand. The word "you" came out a growl, a snarl, his youkai voice much more expressive than his human.

"Then why?"

"I just need someone to fuck – and this is the first weekend I've had free," the Youko said impatiently, stalking across the room as he spoke. "I'll need power for your war. One go isn't going to do it for me."

"And every time you change forms or travel through the worlds or hatch a seedling, it takes some of your power." Yomi judged. "Not enough to matter usually, but…"

"But it could be a deciding factor in your war." Kurama agreed. Yomi imagined him grimacing at the thought of how well Yomi understood the workings of his power. It spoke of how much he had once trusted the other demon – letting anyone know of the intricacies of one's power was something only a fool did.

Yomi felt it as the fox's expression smoothed almost immediately, as he reached to take Yomi's hand in his, draw it to his mouth.

"It's going to take a lot of sex to get me to the power level I need to be at for my plans."

Yomi's own lips parted as he felt the fox draw his fingers into his mouth.

"I thought you hated me."

"I _do_ hate you!" Kurama snarled passionately, dropping Yomi's hand and stepping forward until their bodies were touching, his breath sweet against Yomi's face. Of their own accord, Yomi's hands moved to rest against the fox's slim hips, to hold him in place. He felt the fox's tail lash violently against the backs of his fingers.

"The feeling is, I fear, entirely mutual."

"Good. Then we have an understanding."

Their lips met. Kurama's kiss was brutal, controlling, and lacking in any kind of passion.

Yomi still felt a thrill of excitement.

He pulled away quickly.

"You expect me to believe that there's no one else who can do this for you?"

"Why the hell would it matter if there was? This is nothing more than a convenience, after all. It isn't a commitment, a bonding, hell, even a partnership. This is nothing more than what it is. Two people who hate each other using each other for sex."

It was painful dropping his hands. His body was cold as he stepped away.

Kurama scowled. Yomi knew he was scowling, the expression dark and foreboding. It had always been his response when Yomi had disagreed with him. Yomi had never been quite smart enough to learn to heed the warning of that scowl before.

"A human won't give me what I need," Kurama said coldly, voice biting and bitter. For the first time Yomi saw indication that perhaps the fox did not entirely enjoy how his powers enslaved him to the cravings of his body. "And I doubt either of your opponents would appreciate my sneaking into their kingdoms to have my way with their seconds."

There was pain in his voice too, Yomi realized with surprise, though he couldn't begin to fathom why.

"You recruited me for a reason, Yomi." Kurama finished at last, voice softening. "It was only out of some lingering respect that I came to you. I will choose one of your soldiers instead, if you so wish."

He moved to leave and Yomi grabbed him, pulled him to his side. There were no more words spoken between them.

* * *

A night and a day.

It felt like old times, except, back then, he had never had possession of that long, lithe body, never known the feel of those long-fingered hands pulling through his hair. Well could he remember the sight of the fox he yearned for twined around the body of a partner, the gleam of all that pale skin and silvery hair in the moonlight.

A night and a day and they did not leave Yomi's quarters. Neither did they argue. A night and a day and the coldness has left Kurama's voice, his touch had grown less purposeful and more impassioned.

Yomi had even heard his old friend laugh.

It was with reluctance that Yomi dressed when he received word that the delegation he had been expecting had arrived. Youkai of the upper A-class who had yet to have chosen a side in the upcoming war who Yomi was hoping to lure over.

"Are you certain you don't want to accompany me, Kurama?" he asked, turning his head toward the corner where the bed rested. Memory was nearly enough to let him know what a vision the fox must make stretched out leisurely on the wrinkled sheets.

Kurama's voice was lazy, almost bored.

"I told you no, didn't I?

Yomi crossed the room, and putting a knee on the bed, leaned across to kiss the fox.

"But think of how much easier my proposition will be with you by my side," he murmured warmly, letting his fingers run through that long expanse of silken hair. "Kurama, you're my second, or will be, very soon. But there's so much more to it than that. We should be so much more than commander and second."

"Is that what you think?" Kurama asked quietly, voice unreadable. It was strange after the warmth it had held only moments ago.

"We always should have been."

"Hm." he replied.

"Everything we could be, Kurama. Everything we could forge…" there was something in Yomi's gut screaming alarm at him, but he pushed it aside. Youko Kurama was not one to express his thoughts or feelings often, and his human aspect seemed to have only increased that trait. His growing quiet didn't mean anything.

"You're going to be late for your meeting."

Yomi laughed, kissed him again. Kurama's lips were unresponsive, but Yomi was confident that he had learned how to break past the fox's mood swings easily enough.

"Have it your way. I'll return shortly…get some rest."

Yomi's spirits soared as he felt Kurama smile, and he left for his meeting with a brighter outlook toward the future than he had felt in a long while.

* * *

TBC

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

Casey - Thanks so much for reading, I'm glad you like it so far.

guiltyamethyst - LOL. Read the next one and then see how you feel for him. (grin)


	6. Chapter 6

Very short chapter. Think of it as more as a 5.2 or something. The next one is not only longer, but better.

* * *

The delegation of A-class demons Yomi was meeting with were extreme conservatives, as far as demons went. They cared nothing for the fate of humans, only that their demonic brethren be always above the level of the animal homo-sapien.

They strongly disapproved of wars of any kind, which was why they had taken so long to choose a side. However, with Raizen's death so imminent and the war so near, they knew that there was little choice but to make a decision. _Some_ leader of Makai was better, after all, than disruptive, inelegant, violent chaos.

Yomi was confident that he would have the ability to sway them to his side. He was more refined than either of his opponents, thanks to the hard lessons life and Kurama had deemed to teach him so long ago. He did not bear Raizen's foolishness, nor Mukuro's selfish bloodlust. His would clearly be the most graceful rule – something to give real pride to all of demonkind, just as these youkai wanted.

The delegation seemed to be in agreement within the first few moments of meeting him. They were impressed by the wealth and success of his kingdom, the carefully constructed beauty of his capitol city.

The servants he had chosen to serve them during the meeting had been hand selected for their grace, beauty, and personalities. The delegation did not believe in demon enslaving demon, but well-chosen servants were an asset. Class rules should always be maintained in any civilized society, after all.

Everything, from the room they were meeting in to the food they were served were perfectly calculated to show him in the most refined light.

And when a servant knelt to inform him that Kurama was outside the door, wishing to join in the meeting, he could only be too pleased that the fox had chosen to join them, clothed in his demon form.

He hadn't dared to hope for more than a moment that the fox would change his mind. What luck he had chosen to come back on the very weekend the meeting was taking place. How fortunate he had chosen to join him, despite his earlier refusal.

Presenting the lovely, legendary Youko as his lover would be the final push he needed to get what he wanted.

The war was virtually won.

"Send him in," he agreed. He then turned his attention back to the delegation. "There's someone I would like you to meet."

* * *

Furious, Yomi rounded on Kurama before the door even slammed behind the delegation.

"What did you do?" he demanded, seething.

The aura the fox gave off was cool, unafraid, and icily angry.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Yomi tried to calm himself, tried to breathe, but the anger was nearly overpowering him. The moment the fox had entered the room, the delegation had began to shout, clearly offended, although there had been so much of a clamor that Yomi was unable to make out their words.

It had been made clear, however, before they had left in an angry, offended storm, that they would not deal with him again.

"What did you _do_?"

"I came to inform you that I am returning to the human world, and will not be coming back until it is time." Kurama's voice was still icy, but Yomi could detect a decisive hint of pleasure. Kurama had set out to destroy the meeting.

Yomi's hand lashed out for the warmth of Kurama's body, and caught hold of him before he could get away. Impassioned only by anger, he let his free hand roam his form.

Nude.

Yomi frowned, and continued to search until his hand met something cold and metallic.

"I'm sure you remember the Gretyaliss Evirserris." Kurama said in a warm, pleased purr. "A fully organic Makai plant that bears the same look and feel of chains when grown correctly. Perfect for sneaking into or out of prisons….or for making conservative demons believe that the man they're making treaty with is keeping one of his own kind as an unwilling pleasure slave."

"You…?"

"You should have learned not to offend me, Yomi."

* * *

TBC

**Response to Unsigned Reviews:**

guiltyamethyst - and managed to confuse me in the process. I wondered why you were bringing him up.

Nikki - I'm so happy you're enjoying it! Excuse the brevity of this chapter - the next one is going to be much better.

Stratusfear - I'd be happy to read it - just let me know when you have it up. Thanks for reading, and double-thanks for the flattering review!


	7. Chapter 7

Yomi's eyes had been forever closed by the actions of one fox. Not in death, but some would say that the fact he survived the attack that had left him forever in a world of darkness was far crueler than even the slowest and most painful demise could ever possibly be.

The closed eyes could not glare, and it seemed the rest of the face had chosen to take the lead of the eyes. The face, pretty even after these years, perhaps even _more_ pretty, due to the maturity brought on by hardship, was as impassive as a doll's. The forehead was smooth, the lovely lips curved into a bow-shaped, pleasant smile.

The throne was new. Kurama was quite certain that it had not been there the last time he had come to the kingdom of his former second. Massively large, ornately but not ostentatiously carved, inlaid with gold and jewels and ivory in an impressive but strangely tasteful manner.

He had been planning for this.

And a stunning picture he made, seated with elegant nonchalance atop that behemoth, his hair a smooth mass flowing down around his shoulders, his form so very trim, bearing regal.

And that lovely, once-dear face.

Fury radiated from the king like scorching undulations roaring from a furnace. His skin felt like it should be burning, crisping, peeling away, although he knew it wasn't so. His hands itched to reach and check, to make sure, and he stubbornly refused.

Kurama had known he would be met with anger when he returned, but he had also known that he had no choice as to whether or not to return. There was more at stake here than personal pride.

He had expected to be met with anger. He had expected hostility.

He hadn't expected an armed escort to meet him and "lead" him to the king at sword point.

"I'm surprised you had the courage to return, my friend." Yomi said pleasantly.

Kurama returned his smile.

"You have upheld your end of the bargain with surprising accuracy," he answered. "My family remains unharmed, despite my…actions."

"Actions. Yes."

That smile was very disconcerting. Kurama wondered if _he_ had ever appeared this way to any of his enemies. Had Yomi learned this game from him, or was this of his own mind?

He spread his hands.

"I have come to uphold my own end of the bargain," he said at last.

Yomi didn't answer – just continued to smile.

"If you still want them, the warriors I have offered are prepared. I will send for them on your word."

"So pliant now, Kurama?" he asked, amusement in his voice. The wall of anger pulsed painfully. "Forgive me, but the last time I saw you so pliant, it…how do your precious humans say it?...blew up in my face."

Kurama ducked his head.

"In retrospect," he admitted, "I was, perhaps…"

"Perhaps…" Yomi's smile grew. He gave a laugh. "Yes, you were…_perhaps_."

"There is little room for pettiness, and I do owe you an apology. It is of little consequence that you offended me. That I could not allow that offense to go without response."

"Offended you." Yomi chuckled. "And what have you done to me?"

"Need we go over this again?"

"No, Kurama, we need not. Bring me your warriors; I will accept them. And you."

He nodded, turned to go. He stopped as his name was called.

"Kurama?"

Yomi was no longer smiling.

"We have yet to bargain for your life. Do not make it necessary. I have forgiven you more than anyone else ever would, but my affection does not stretch forever."

"I understand."

* * *

Kurama had been expected to be lead to the lush, prison-like quarters that had first been given to him. He had expected guards, perhaps even chains.

He hadn't expected to be taken outside into a large courtyard. Hadn't expected to find himself surrounded by plantlife as escorts led him to a series of beautifully designed Japanese-style buildings.

"This is new."

One of his escorts smiled at him. It wasn't the fact that she was a woman that told him that she was an actual escort, and not a guard. He had met many women throughout the years who had proved to be formidable opponents.

It was the way she was dressed that let him know she wasn't prepared to fight him. The robes were lovely, but would be cumbersome.

And she didn't carry herself the way someone prepared for violence would.

"When our king orders renovation, it happens," she answered.

Perplexing. Yomi was furious at him, but hadn't killed him. Wasn't keeping him prisoner or demanding to share his bed. The anger radiating from his former friend would have been enough to decimate a lesser demon, but in Kurama's absence he had done…this.

"It's good to see a bit of green around the kingdom!" the escort said cheerfully.

Yomi knew that Kurama could use the plants to attack him, take over his palace, do any number of things. But he had planted them, despite knowing that Kurama would be returning. Despite his anger.

The fox frowned, disliking this confusion. Up until this point, each and every move Yomi had made had been carefully calculated to give him power over the infamous Youko. Each of Kurama's responses had been calculated just as carefully – intended to hurt Yomi as much as necessary.

What had caused the intense urge to hurt his old friend?

Kurama had been angry upon ever arriving in Yomi's kingdom, and it had nothing to do with the king. Perhaps if he hadn't been hurt, if a certain demon he had once been close to had not walked away from him without hesitation…perhaps then Kurama would have been in a more suitable state of mind. He should have been more afraid of Yomi, and the fact that he never had been was damning evidence.

The demands Yomi had made of him had hurt his pride, but that was the way demonic politics went. Had he been thinking more clearly, things would have gone differently.

And he probably would have ended up the eternal pleasure slave of the other demon.

In that respect, at least, Hiei's actions seemed to have actually saved Kurama. He had been so upset over their last conversation…perhaps he had been taking it all out on Yomi.

Still. Yomi would have made him a slave, and that was something Kurama had long ago vowed would never happen again.

Kurama had managed to stay away long enough that he had calmed from the petty anger that had caused him to humiliate Yomi in front of those visitors and this surprise had shaken him out of whatever remained. Two demons on equal terms simply did not squabble amongst each other like human children. He had meant his apology.

_This_ concerned him greatly, though. These plants, these buildings. Anyone uninvolved would think Yomi had had this built as a gift for a returning lover – but the anger Kurama had been met with proved that sex was likely the last thing on the demon king's mind.

The contrast was astounding.

His guide showed him to the room he would be using, and left. She did not stay to stand guard, did not ask he remain indoors. She simply smiled, explained how to call for a servant if he needed anything, and left him alone.

Like a guest.

* * *

"Well, you didn't use your plants to strangle me in my sleep. I must say I'm quite surprised."

From the corner of his eye Kurama glanced at Yomi as the king came to stand beside him near the giant windows. The view of Yomi's kingdom from this particular set of windows had caught the fox's attention on previous visits, and he hadn't been able to resist stopping to enjoy the view on his meandering through the palace. The calm of it helped him think.

Anger still permeated his Yomi's aura, making it dark and sharp and painful, but it had lessened considerably from the last time they had spoken.

"I, too survived another night here. I remain healthy and, whatsmore, unchained. Surely the surprise belongs to me."

"Going to take that away from me, too, Kurama?" he asked with a quiet chuckle.

Kurama turned his attention back to the view.

"Why did you plant the garden?"

"You know."

"Yomi…"

"I can't say it. After everything you've done to me, I shouldn't be able to feel it. But it's as true now as it was true before you tried to kill me. I hate you, but the other feelings are just as strong now as they were when they were _all_ I felt."

There was silence between them for a long time. It may even have been companionable were it not for the steady pulse of Yomi's rage.

"You are one of the few things in my life which I regret, Yomi." Kurama said at last, turning to go.

A voice broke through the silent stillness, catching both demons' sensitive ears though it came from far away.

"Hey Yomi! You son of a bitch!"

* * *

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Yo. It's been a while, ne? (Sheepish grin). Anyway, I've been getting so much encouragement to continue this, so I'm going to see if I can get the boy's to cooperate for long enough for me to finish this fic. Props to everyone who realized it was Yusuke speaking at the end of last chapter. Reading over it recently, I realized that that part would be a little confusing for anyone not uber-familiar with this particular timeline.

I'd been using the dvds for reference, but I don't feel like watching these eps again right now (or a year ago – hence the long absence) so I'm using an online manga translation. Please excuse me if it ends up making a difference. I'm changing up the wording of the dialogue for this scene, but it's basically the same conversation as in the translation.

* * *

He was so…so foul. So…_common_. So crude.

It took all of Yomi's control and patience to keep his disgust and horror from showing on his face. _This_ was Raizen's heir? This…this _child_, reeking of humanity with his dirty halfbred blood running through his veins – no, not even a halfbreed! If Raizen hadn't already been dead, Yomi would have sent an assassin for his head and damn the political consequences. Surely the other king had to have been mad to have created something so…so _disgusting_.

And the power! What was a human-raised, less-than-halfbreed brat _doing_ with enough raw power to make his teeth ache? Yomi had had to fight and claw and bleed his way to that kind of power – it had taken _centuries_, and this brat had it _now_?

He had heard something he had never expected to hear – a sound he had not thought existed – in those first, surprised and silent moments after the brat had so crassly announced his presence in Yomi's kingdom. As the last echoes of that graceless shout died slowly in his ears, the fox at his side shifted, his hand coming up to his mouth, and…laughed. Not a normal laugh – this had been a laugh of surprise, of delight. A laugh that betrayed how completely off-guard the brat's actions had pushed the wily fox.

He had been smiling, Yomi was sure, even after the laugh fell away. As Yomi turned and ordered him to gather the warriors he had promised and hide them away, ready to attack Raizen's heir at his signal, the fox had been smiling. Yomi couldn't see it, but somehow he knew it was there. A smile. A _happy_ smile.

Hate surged like bile in his throat.

The mostly-human brat wrapped his filthy hands around the fine china teacup one of the servants had given him and took a long sip. Yomi made a mental note to have that set destroyed after he left. Seconds ticked by and still Raizen's abomination did not speak. Yomi itched to give the signal, to order Kurama and the warriors he had brought to kill the brute. Whatever their differences, Kurama had promised his loyalty to Yomi. He would never choose this filthy creature over his former second.

"I don't mean to rush you," Yomi offered the boy his most cordial smile. "But may I ask what brings you to my kingdom? To be honest with you, I strongly dislike conflict."

"Well…" the mostly-human offered him a large, brash grin, and Yomi felt his skin crawl. He could not see the expression with his eyes, but he knew how the expression would look. Fearless, reckless, and completely lacking in any trace of respect. The boy put his teacup back down on the table with an inelegant thunk, and the lack of any sloshing told Yomi that he had completely drained it. "Raizen's dead."

Yomi raised his eyebrows at the lack of subtlety in the brat's announcement, but Urameshi continued before he could say anything.

"Since that makes me the new ruler, I thought I'd stop by and say hi," the boy stated. "And, you know, check out the enemy for myself."

"I see…" what a fool! What a child! And Kurama had once willingly associated himself with this creature? "Then this also gives me the opportunity to state my _own_ wishes."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the brat was barely listening. Yomi heard him fumble around for a moment, and then something hit the table hard. Oddly, its sound resembled that of a bag of stones. The teacup fell to the floor and shattered. "I brought you a gift."

So the creature wasn't a complete fool. He recognized how weak his position was, at the very least, though Yomi had little intention of taking mercy on him just because he had brought a peace offering. "How very kind of you," he said, barely managing to keep down his contempt. "Would you care to open it for me?"

He felt the air shift as Urameshi shrugged. "I ain't cleaning it up."

* * *

Kurama clenched his hands into fists – what was Yusuke _thinking_?

It was good to see the spirit detective again after their long year apart, good to hear his voice and his laugh, good to be caught off guard by his obvious insanity (no longer how long he knew his friend, he would never quite get used to _that_ aspect of his personality). It was almost as if the hurt and anger that Kurama had been nursing ever since he first returned to the demon world had been broken at the sound of Yusuke's voice, yelling so brashly from the outer reaches of Yomi's kingdom.

"Ahhh! Our kingdom's most precious treasures - !"

Kurama truly did regret his petty actions toward Yomi the last time he had come to Gandara. Though he had come for the explicit purpose of using his former second, he had been infuriated at the thought of Yomi using him in return – using him or worse. It had almost seemed as if his once friend had thought Kurama was truly there to stay by his side – and wanting to show him off to political allies, like a whore or a tamed pet (or was that partner? No, no, _anything_ but that!) Kurama had been infuriated, and with his mind soaking deeply in the instincts and inclinations of his youko form, he had acted on that anger without thought. If he had it to do again, everything would be different. He never seemed capable of making the right decision where Yomi was concerned. Not in the past, while they had been friends, and not now. It made him sad.

"Your highness, what could you possibly be thinking - !"

He had been getting too caught up in politics and games, and had nearly forgotten that there was anything else in the world. He had nearly forgotten that there were those – a select, precious few – who _could_ be trusted.

Yomi's voice, calm and amused, drifted over the screams of Yusuke's servant: "Such a truly priceless gift," he said, and Kurama picked up on the small note of contempt in his voice. "You have my thanks. I assume by such an offering you can only intend one thing…"

It was of little surprise that the demons he had chosen to bring with him wanted to take Yusuke's side if this conversation with Yomi turned bloody – little surprise, but Kurama found himself intensely relieved. It would weigh heavily on him, betraying Yomi once again, but Kurama wouldn't hesitate. If there was one man in the three worlds who held his complete trust and loyalty, it was Yusuke.

Silence had fallen in the next room, thick and heavy and waiting. Kurama shifted, trying to peer through the small crack where the door was not quite closed all the way, wondering if it was time to show where his true allegiance lay –

And Yusuke's man began to wail.

"Y…y…you've defaced our national treasure!" he cried, sounding near to tears.

"I've been thinkin' about this for a long time," Yusuke's voice, breezy and confident, drifted over the ruckus his servant was making. "Truth is, I'd make a pretty damn sucky king. So I decided we were gonna handle this mess another way. _My_ way."

"Your…?"

Kurama fought a smile. Perhaps he had done an insufficient job of preparing Yomi for Yusuke. But really, how _would_ one go about describing someone so very…very…Yusuke-esque?

"These are the lots we're gonna draw!" his friend announced.

"Lots…?"

He sighed at having to explain what he clearly thought should be obvious by now. "Thought you were supposed t' be smart. Lots. To fill the brackets with."

"Brackets?"

"Fuck all this kingdom bullshit," and by his voice alone, Kurama knew Yusuke was grinning. "Let's just have us one big 'ole knock-down, drag-out brawl!"

* * *

tbc

Meh – medium sized chapter? I think this means I can take it off the hiatus list…

As for Yomi's thoughts toward Yusuke…I honestly think he doesn't like him – at the very least, initially. Humans are food to him, and Raizen was his enemy, and Yusuke doesn't usually make a good first impression. Plus, as far as this storyline goes, he would be jealous of his ties to Kurama.

And I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but the more I think about it the more I think it's true – I think this fic would work nicely as a precursor to my Dirge fic. I think they could easily exist within the same timeline – if you'd like to read it that way.

Sorry for the long wait, and thanks for waiting so patiently. Thanks also for reading; hope to see you next time! -K


	9. Chapter 9

Originally the idea was just for a one shot. I was just curious to explore the tension between Yomi and Kurama…to experiment with their shared past and see what the characters would "tell" me. Then it got such a favorable response that one chapter became two became three and so on…

So many thanks to everyone who's read this far, even after the hiatus. I apologize for keeping you all waiting for so long. This is the final chapter of the Leashed storyline – as I've told a few of you, I really feel that the cannon wraps up their relationship nicely (one of the few things I actually liked about the Three Kings arc) and so I don't plan to go into the tournament. I just don't see a point in it. As I've mentioned before, you can read Dirge as following in the same timeline as this story, so if you have any remaining questions after this chapter, or anything that feels unresolved, please let me know and I'll try to work it into that fic.

Again, thank you so much for your time and patience. I hope you enjoyed yourselves.

* * *

"I had hoped to make you love me."

He stopped, surprised by the sudden voice. He found himself unable to summon even the smallest of smiles.

"Oh, Yomi…"

The horned demon cocked his head to the side, expression concerned. "You've repacked your things," he stated, looking, for all the world, as if he could actually see the pack on Kurama's shoulder. "Don't tell me you're leaving so soon."

"I thought it would be best."

"Ah…" a smile played at Yomi's mouth as he approached, his fingertips lightly playing along the wall of the corridor as he walked. "Yes, most men _would_ be furious after the events which occurred today. How many betrayals does that make now?"

"Too many," Kurama acknowledged guardedly.

Yomi laughed.

"At least you acknowledge it!" the other demon said warmly. His progress stopped him just short of Kurama, leaving him just out of arm's reach. He had made no motion of a threat yet, and so Kurama was forced to endure continuing their polite façade. He would not, he swore to himself, be the first to attack. He owed Yomi that, at least. "Did you _ever_ intend on remaining true?"

"It depended."

"On which side proved the strongest, I suppose?" he asked amiably.

"On Yusuke," Kurama corrected.

This surprised his old friend. For just a moment he lost his kingly patience; for just a moment he was the man Kurama had once kept so closely to his side – a foolish and honest young warrior incapable of even the slightest believable deceit. The old Yomi would not have been able to hide his thoughts from Kurama for even a second, however he might have tried. His emotions had always been as clear as the morning sun to the fox.

"He is one whose trust I will never betray," Kurama admitted, sure he was sealing his fate.

Yomi didn't answer for a long while. Kurama shifted his eyes to stare past him, unable to bear the naked pain in his once-friend's face.

"Never once…never once did I mean anything to you, did I?" Yomi asked, still seeming so young, so vulnerable, so open.

Kurama fought the urge to flinch. "Who's to say?" he asked.

The foolishly honest companion of so long ago began to vanish. The open pain in his expression closed off, folding in on itself like a puppet that had lost its strings. The blink of an eye was all it took for him to become once again the cool visage of the king of Gandara.

"You should make haste in leaving this land, Kurama," he advised pleasantly.

"The changes you made to your palace…" the fox could not resist asking, even though his every instinct was screaming for him to make his exit. "The plants, the new rooms, the servants…"

"A great expense I went to under the foolish hope of making amends. Of winning the heart of the one I had always dreamed of."

"Yet you were furious when you found I had arrived in your kingdom."

Yomi's smile was full of self mockery. "That's what makes you such a cruel opponent, Kurama," he said softly. "No matter how much I hate you, no matter how I long for the feel of my hands around your slender neck…my affection, my love…"

"_Yomi - !"_

He stopped, a grim smile on his lips. "As I said," he offered at last. "You should leave. Before I do something I will never be able to forgive myself for."

Still Kurama hesitated. "I have never loved you romantically," he admitted.

"You are pushing your luck, Kurama. I warn you, my patience will not stretch much longer."

"I have never loved you," he repeated, "However…that does not mean that I never cared for you."

"You have a very strange way of showing that, then. Now – unless you would prefer my men drag your carcass out of here in pieces…"

Kurama stepped forward. He felt as if this were his only opportunity; the only time he and his one-time friend would ever be able to bear being so brutally honest with each other again. This was the last time they would be able to face each other on such terms, and Kurama couldn't bring himself to remain silent. He owed Yomi _something_, didn't he? He reached out and took his once-friend's face in his hands.

"I should never have sent that assassin after you," he admitted as he kissed him softly.

"A little belated, don't you think?" even now, with the pain and the fury of yet another betrayal so fresh, Yomi's expression and voice softened.

"I should have killed you myself."

"Lovely, Kurama."

He laughed, gently, and kissed him again. "I thought it would be far less cruel if you were to die ignorant of my decision regarding your suitability as my second."

"Such a strange way to express your kindness."

"Perhaps," Kurama kissed him a third time, and eased his hands back through that thick, dark mass of hair. "Yet it is the truth. I did not want your dying thoughts to be the knowledge that I had been the cause of your end."

Yomi mirrored his actions, pulling his own hands through Kurama's hair, fingers tugging on the red strands. "You are truly a bastard, Kurama."

The fox drew back, and when he offered a smile to his old friend, he found that he actually meant it.

"I hope our paths cross during Yusuke's tournament," he said honestly.

"If we fight, I will kill you."

Kurama laughed. "You would never."

Yomi's smile spread across his face as if pulled there against his will. "The tournament, then, Kurama?"

"It's a date."

* * *

End


End file.
